


Poetry

by Champagne



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Established Relationship, Experimental Style, Fluff, M/M, i was feeling grossly cheesy and this happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 02:06:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21559879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Champagne/pseuds/Champagne
Summary: Jon has difficulties saying what he feels.Martin recommends an alternative.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 10
Kudos: 86





	Poetry

_I know you don’t like talking about these things._

It’s not that I don’t, it’s that I can’t.

_What do you mean?_

It’s like I can’t get the words out. It’s like a physical strain to get myself to say them.

_Oh. I’m sorry. You don’t have to do this._

I— I love, you. I want you to know that. I just wish it was easier for me to say. I know it’s partially my fault you’re feeling this way right now.

_I’m not blaming you for my insecurities, Jon._

I know, but you should.

_You’re being ridiculous._

And that’s why you— love me.

_Yes, you’re right...So, what do we do?_

I-- don’t know.

_How about...hm._

What?

_It’s a little...silly._

I’ll try anything. I want you to know what- what I feel. God, I wish it was easier for me to _say_.

_Well, how about…_

...You’re stalling, Martin.

_I know, but it’s just, kind of embarrassing! I used to write poetry, remember?_

Yes. I remember.

_Don’t sound so fond, it was bad and I haven’t written any more in a long time. But- but I was thinking. Maybe...be poetic about it? About what you’re feeling?_

Be...poetic.

_Yes? You’re not, you’re not saying the words, but you’re describing how you feel?_

That’s...a good idea.

_Really?_

But you’ll have to give me time. I need to think on this.

_Oh! O-okay. Yeah, take, take all the time you need! I can wait._

I lo—...

_I love you too, Jon._

* * *

Okay, I think I’m ready.

_Alri— Jon is that a_ notebook?

I wanted to make sure I didn’t forget anything. And...please let me finish before commenting. This was, well, a bit difficult.

_Okay. I’ll wait. I’m ready whenever you are._

Okay.  
.  
.  
.  
I’ll start off by admitting that I’m not one for poetry, as I’m sure you know. I tend to be blunt, tactless, all in all a prick— Don’t interrupt me, I, I have a point to this. 

Okay. I know I’m not the nicest of people, but I try, for you. I try to...smooth down the rough edges and jagged corners, because I don’t want to hurt you. Of course, I can’t always succeed, but. But getting the chance to see you smile is worth the effort. 

The fact that I get to see you, everyday, is...it’s a balm on my soul. All of the scars and nightmares feel like they mean-- nothing for a few moments every morning, and that all that matters in the universe is...you. If I could paint, if I was any good at painting, or, or sketching, I would paint you. And even with my lack of artistic talent, your likeness would make it a masterpiece. 

When you touch me...especially just the little things, it’s a warmth I still...have trouble describing. It’s like sitting in front of the fire after playing outside in the snow. It’s-- a hot cup of tea in my cold hands. It’s the feeling of sunlight on my face after too long in the dark. It’s a reminder that, while there is pain, there is also always, always softness. Especially given how...scarred, I’ve become, physically and mentally, the fact that you can still touch me so gently, so casually, like it’s natural for you...reminds me that at least some part of me is still human. 

I hadn’t put much thought into my favorite color before I met you. Now I’m pretty sure my favorite color is your eyes. 

We don’t have a functioning radio here in the safe house, but if we did...I think, waking up beside you is like. Turning it on and hearing my favorite song. Every day, without fail. Every time you smile, I feel that way as well. Maybe it’s more accurate to describe your smile as my favorite song. Your laugh is my favorite flavor. Your touch is my favorite dream.  
.  
.  
.  
I sort of rambled, and like I’ve said before, I’m not one for poetry, but I tried. I hope...I hope this makes sense, Martin, because I’m feeling incredibly embarrassed ab— god, Martin, are you _crying_? 

_I love you too, Jon._

**Author's Note:**

> whats up friends this is my first published tma fic and of course it'd be jonmartin, because i gravitate to certain dynamics and jonmartin hits EVERY button for me
> 
> id like to that the magnus writers discord server for giving me that sweet sweet validation and the confidence to actually post this ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿


End file.
